Sparkling Mine
by Dragonaia
Summary: Reborn amongst an alien species, a former leukemia patient begins a new life among the soldiers and battle-lines of a Cybertronian civil war. Her only goal is to actually make it to adulthood this go around. Life as a baby Seeker has never been so complicated. Non-Slash


**Sparkling Mine**

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**By: **Dragonaia

**A/N**: _This has been sitting around my computer for several months. It's about time I finally got the nerve to post it. Hope you enjoy._

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**Chapter 1: Birth**

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Her name… it was a straightforward enough concept. It was a simplistic series of phonetic utterances that were somehow able to sum up her entire existence; a label that identified everything she was. The existential burst of formed sound was an integral piece of any sentient being's span of existence; the key to differentiating '_I_' from '_Them_'. So she was understandably frustrated when she found it nearly impossible to recall her own.

Granted, she could still remember the names of everyone else in her family, including her mother, father, stepfather and three stepbrothers. Hell, her memory was so clear that she could even recall the names of her six consecutive childhood goldfish. But no matter how hard she struggled, her mind refused to grasp onto her own elusive self-designation, the fragment of knowledge as skittish and intangible as a minnow slipping through her grasping fingers.

By rights, she shouldn't be remembering anything given her present condition. She was dead after all. Her last clear recollection before this nothingness she found herself suspended in was of her family gathered around her as she slowly expired from sudden-onset leukemia. Her father had been sitting at her left, tears in his eyes, while her mother was grasping her hand on her right, her stepfather and stepsiblings looking on in sorrow. Dying or not, it had been kind of nice for all of her family to be together in the same room without ripping each other's heads off for once. If she'd had the energy she would have laughed in morbid victory at that, before she sank back into the pillow and closed her eyes for the last time, her life draining away amid a haze of agony and powerful narcotics.

Death was an admittedly unsettling experience. She'd been expecting blackness; what she got instead was a bright blinding white mist. The fog was all-encompassing, swirling around her in a veritable sea of light and warm tingling almost-sensation. The tendrils of mist pervaded her senses, soothing her discomfort and settling her nerves. She felt like she was practically marinating in the stuff. After a time her cocoon of light felt less suffocating and more comforting as she became more and more accustomed to her new circumstances. The longer she resided there the stronger she felt, like somehow she was absorbing energy from her surroundings.

Just as she began to resign herself to her fate, she realized that she was not alone. Another mind was sliding up against hers, the contact soft and brief, like a fleeting brush of silky fur against skin. She sank into the other presence, revelling in the contact despite the conflict stirring within her. The instinctual part of her knew that she needed this other person; that she was supposed to be there, pressed as close as physically possible. But the second, more individual part of her was unhappy. Something about her companion put her on edge. She wanted to trust it, but she suspected that would be a very bad idea. With little other choice in the matter, she sank back and relaxed into position, allowing what would happen to progress naturally.

Her bond with the other presence became more substantial as time went by. It terrified her when she realized that she was entirely dependent on it. She didn't think she could exist separately anymore even if she wanted to. She was changing in some significant way she could not understand, becoming more than she had previously been, greater, stronger, perhaps even powerful. With no way to quantify was happening she curled up closer to her life source, soaking in everything it/he/she had to offer. Every once in a while ripples of fleeting emotion would wash over and into her, emanating from her constant companion in soft waves. Pleasure, happiness, elation, pain, fear, frustration and rage: all of these would engulf her at various intervals, ensuring that she did not forget that whatever she was bound within existed above and beyond this place.

Eventually there came a time when the growth stalled. The space that she and the other luminescent being occupied was fast becoming cramped, the energy so constrained the pressure started to border on painful. It didn't take a genius to realize that change was coming, and soon.

The first sign of the encroaching change was a sense of openness and a relief from the pressure she'd been enduring. Her companion seemed quite pleased about it too, even if there was an underlying current of nervousness. But it wasn't outright fear, so she did not allow herself to become overly concerned. A new and foreign sensation sent a frisson of confused pleasure through her as she received a bright jolt of energy from a source other than her benefactor. Not long afterwards she endured a second jolt, this one accompanied by a not so enjoyable pinching sensation, fixing her in place. Steeling her reserves, she tried not to panic. It was fairly obvious what was coming. When the third intrusive jolt struck, she was ready. Something was pulling her away from her life source. Knowing there was not much point in fighting the inevitable, she allowed herself to be excised and removed from her temporary womb.

Separating from her warm sanctuary was traumatizing. The second she was free from its sphere of influence she almost panicked despite her conviction. She curled in on herself as she endured the experience of being free-floating and insubstantial, energy bleeding off into the space around her. The transition may not have taken much time at all, but it certainly felt like forever as she was lifted up by something she was incapable of perceiving and gently deposited into a new place. This new haven brimmed with fresh pleasantly crackling energy that quickly worked to restore what she had lost on the journey, and it was free from any other presence, giving her plenty of room to expand. Somehow she knew that this place was her own, that it was special. As she began to unfurl to fill the space, her mind expanded to touch the surface of her boundaries, before, with a final burst of external power, her perspective spilled past its edges and beyond, forcing her outwards and into the waking world.

At least, she assumed it was the waking world. She was feeling again, so that was a pretty good indication that all was well. Her eyesight was filled with a comforting sort of blackness, although the rolling display of what looked like technical readouts streaming across the bottom of her vision and written in a blatantly foreign language was a little worrying. She was now able to judge the difference in temperatures, noting that the environment was quite cool, and the table below her even more so, though the freezing temperatures didn't bother her the way they should have. Sound was strange too. Her body was full of clicking and whirring, accompanied by a dull electronic hum. Everything she experienced felt so clear, so precise, and yet there was something about it that was so numb and unreal. She attempted to take a deep breath of air in an effort to steady herself; the action instead triggered unexpected movement from several places over the surface of her head, neck and chest, sending a cool draft _underneath_ her skin. Greatly unnerved, she prepared to open her eyes.

They didn't open so much as flicker on, a wave of dark static rapidly fading before she was granted a disturbingly detailed view of a high metal ceiling. Her face felt stiff as she struggled to narrow her brow in confusion, and she vocalized a static-ridden grunt as she tried and failed to sit up. The sound was suspiciously high-pitched. Growling in mounting frustration, the action was felt not so much in her throat, but in her chest, the organs rumbling and stuttering as they fought to comply with her demands and failed. It was only after much effort that she finally made the barest amount of progress, the fingers of her right hand curling to brush against her palm. She did not have nearly enough strength or control to achieve a full fist, let alone slam it down on the surface below her like she wanted to. With few other choices available, she tried to cry out for help.

What came out of her mouth instead was an embarrassingly shrill chirrup, like a baby bird. She automatically froze in horror, praying that the sound had gone unheard. Alas, it was not to be. She was almost too stunned to take note of the thunderous footsteps making their way over to her side, but not nearly stunned enough that she did not notice their towering owner. She couldn't halt the distressed squeaky trill that escaped her mouth instead of a scream.

Looming high above her was the face of a metal giant. It wasn't the most comforting visage she'd ever beheld either. A bright red visor obscured his/its eyes, the dark gray metal of the face gleaming in the crimson light exuded by the glass-like substance of its visor. That robotic face was framed by a black, square-ish helmet, the unmistakable scowl it wore on its segmented metal face doing little to diminish from its overall intimidating appearance. Somehow, even the bright green and dark purple painted armour of the shoulders and torso she could see were threatening, if only because their sheer mass overshadowed the somewhat outlandish colour scheme. Just behind his shoulder something caught her attention, a long projection of metal running up his spine, and tipped with a large hook, like the mechanism of a crane. She did not have long to deliberate its purpose however, as the giant began to speak.

Or at least, that's what she assumed he was doing. It was hard to tell really. His mouth opened and the metallic lips moved in tandem with the sounds being emitted, but the language was totally alien to her. It was harsh, electronic, and filled with thousands of tones, including what she was almost sure were sounds that should have been beyond her range of hearing, and yet they were still audible. As he spoke to someone just out of sight, he began to examine her, running his massive hands over her limbs and bending her joints to test their movement. It sort of reminded her of a doctor's examination, truth be told. She tried to speak again, to ask what was going on, but there was something wrong with her throat. All that emerged was another pathetic sounding beep. The giant paused in his examination, falling silent, his expression difficult to read. She trembled anxiously when a bright orange light shot out of a socket mounted on the ceiling, running up and down her body, her insides buzzing as an electrical pulse ran through them.

Once the light had finished its work, the giant's acid green hands reached out to gently scoop her off of the metal surface and gathered her close to his chest. The slightly curled position allowed her to finally see her own body. Somehow, given what she'd experienced already, she was not as shocked as she could have been. Her form was small and delicate looking, tiny fingers curling as she leaned against the warm metal chest for support. Her nearly adult contours were gone, replaced with the body of a robotic child, complete with a flat boxy chest and thin, short children's limbs, all encased in dull metal plates. She noted with some surprise that her new form was slightly smaller than the giant's hand. Hell, she wasn't a child, she was an infant!

The green and purple robot was careful as he cupped her fragile shape in his gigantic palm. They were standing inside a strange windowless space, and it didn't take her long to figure out that it must be some sort of medical facility dedicated to those of a mechanical nature. Cot-shaped tables built at approximately the giant's waist height were spaced in two rows along the long room, with bright lights and other mysterious devices mounted to the ceiling for easy access. Along one of the walls was a countertop and cabinet set, heaped with tools and other electronic paraphernalia. After ensuring that all was well with her, the robot transferred her securely into one hand, using the other to push a large, fearsome looking piece of medical equipment that was all wires, cables and a crown of needles on a mounted arm, out of the way so he could have room to manoeuvre. He turned to the raised platform immediately to their right where three figures were waiting impatiently.

The trio of new robots were very different from the first one, being a head or two shorter, and they all shared the same basic design, with arching metal wings gracing their backs, domed glass projections on their chests, and huge turbines located along the backs of their legs. The random assortment of extra parts and accessories baffled her, though the three were more streamlined and less boxy than the colossal armoured giant that currently had possession of her. Two of them were standing guard on either side of the table with the menacing air of bodyguards, their expressions almost hostile as they eyed the one carrying her, not even sparing her small form a glance. The third winged robot was stretched out on the table between them, pieces of his chest opened and folded back to reveal his internal systems, including a glowing white-blue orb, its protective metal casing still clamped wide open. These three had colour schemes that were a sight less ridiculous than the giant's neon green and dark purple. All three were composed of mostly black and chrome, with luminescent red 'eyes'. The one stretched out on the table was mostly accented with red and dark grey, but his hands and forearms were an unusual deep blue, nearly azure. The two acting 'bodyguards' were even more soberly coloured. One was mainly composed of gray on his torso with indigo markings littered everywhere else. His companion also had a gray torso, but his forearms, wings and legs were highlighted with deep violet.

The mechanoid holding her took in the scene for a brief moment, before he hissed out a long cycle of air through his vents and went to hand her off to one of the others. He almost gave her to the purple one, before he seemed to think better of it and passed her into the reluctant arms of the dark blue. The purple appeared to take offense to this, and a barrage of deep mechanical 'words' was exchanged while the two argued over something she had no hope of understanding. She wasn't really paying much attention. Her eyes were fixated on the glowing orb of light inside the prostrate robot's chest. She was startled from her contemplations when the laying robot snapped at the two bickering ones, his voice akin to the harsh screeching grind of metal on metal or nails on a chalkboard, but it was still somehow commanding all the same.

Heaving another world-weary sigh, the green and purple worked to replace the parts that had been shifted aside in the interior of his patient's chest. She couldn't contain her whimper of disappointment when the softly pulsing light was blocked from view and safely hidden away back into the machine's internals. With a couple deft movements of his hands the giant pushed the last few metal plates back into place, sealing the red one's chest back up. Now pieced together, the red tried to sit up, but was pushed back down to the cushioned platform with a firm command. The largest mechanoid swiftly retrieved her from the apprehensive grip of the blue one holding her and transferred her on top of the red one's sealed chest plate, cutting off the string of screeched protests. Uncertain arms reached up and enfolded her in an inexperienced embrace. She shook with fear at the foreignness of it all, feeling drained, and physically and emotionally exhausted from the day's trials, however short-lived they were. There was a sound of parts shifting beneath the plating under her head, and she suddenly experienced a rush of warmth, one she recognized. It was the energy and light that had fuelled her rebirth, the one she had become bound to and had just been separated from. Unable to shake the sense that she was finally back where she belonged, she closed her tired eyes and drifted off to sleep, safe and secure.

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**Commentary**: _I've been a fan of this series for… well most of my life, but this is my first written foray into the genre. I began it mainly as an exercise to explain the Cybertronian life-cycle. At the end of each chapter I'll include a quick blurb on each point and my reasoning. If you disagree with me on anything I'd love to discuss it, but don't expect me to change anything. This is a single universe I've constructed for purpose of the story, so nobody panic if it's different from what you imagined._

_ To clear up any misconceptions, the main character has been reincarnated, but has much of her past life's memory intact (I wonder if that's higher or lower up the karmic ladder?). While technically genderless, as I would reason most Transformers are, (my femmes qualify as a sub-species, the details of which will be explored in later chapters), the main character continues to identify with a female pronoun mainly for the audience's benefit and the ease of the narrative. Don't worry, this isn't a Yaoi. The only pairings would be canon, if that. One of my pet Transformer peeves is that as a species that lives practically forever, they would have almost no drive to breed, and births would be extremely infrequent. Like eight or nine natural births a vorn at the height of the golden age infrequent. Relationships, including spark-bonds, are mostly about emotion and companionship, sex being a waste of energy for a creature with virtually no need to reproduce, particularly during wartime or famine. Sorry you slash fans, but that's science, and I will obey the almighty will of science._

_ As for which series this tale is set in, it's definitely an AU universe. Physically, the characters are more complex than their G1 counterparts (sorry guys, but it's a cartoon and I just can't see alien robots being that simple in design), but not as convoluted as the Bay-formers. Colour schemes tend to take after G1 for identification purposes, unless stated otherwise. I'm willing to take suggestions._

_ Thanks for stopping to read this tentative venture into new territory on my part, and I hope you stick around for the encore. As always, comments and suggestions are welcome._

**_ -Dragonaia_**


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